


the place i belong (is here with you)

by meevees



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Family Dynamics, Gen, but follows the plot of verdant wind, slightly canon divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meevees/pseuds/meevees
Summary: Claude balked, “Wait a minute, you don’t seriously mean to tell us you’ve been here all this time, do you?”Again, Cyril seemed surprised at the question. He blinked, answering in a matter-of-fact tone, “Of course I have. Where else would I go?”From Cyril, the question was not an accusation or a plea for pity; it was a statement of fact. Garreg Mach Monastery might as well have been the whole world as far as he was concerned, and Rhea the sun it revolved around. Of course it would never have occurred to him to go elsewhere, to do something other than keep trying to fulfill his duty to Rhea and take care of the monastery.~~Or the one in which Claude and Byleth adopt Cyril (basically).





	the place i belong (is here with you)

The sudden and unexpected return of the Golden Deer’s beloved professor had brought an air of levity and mirth to their class reunion, even as they set to the daunting task of restoring the monastery to a functional state. Hilda’s deft manipulation of the Knights of Seiros into taking the brunt of the work had been a welcome relief, but there was no denying that everyone still had a lot of work to do. Still, there was enough joy and hope in the air that they all set to their tasks with a spring to their step. Even Lorenz, who would have balked at being subjected to such common work when last he and Byleth had met, was working diligently.

But none were quite as enthusiastic as Claude. As soon as they started divvying up the jobs he’d proclaimed “I’ll get started on the third floor,” and taken Byleth by the wrist to lead her along with him.

At this point in their relationship the hidden intentions behind Claude’s seemingly innocuous choice were as clear to Byleth as if he had spoken them aloud. The third floor of the monastery had been largely restricted during Claude’s time at the Officer’s Academy--even Byleth had not been allowed entry herself as a staff member--and he was eager to discover its secrets. While Byleth doubted the rules had been enough to keep Claude out of the third floor as a student, he’d certainly never been able to explore it openly and without caution. He was seizing his chance now, before anything of potential interest was lost to the clean up.

For her part, Byleth just shook her head and fell into step beside him. She was more than willing to stand back and follow his lead on this endeavor, not to mention being on standby to make sure he wasn’t too irreverent. Byleth was still working out what exactly her feelings towards Rhea were and doubted she would have any closure on the subject until they could talk face-to-face. In the meantime, she didn’t care to let Claude trash the archbishop’s room in the name of research.

“Man, this is just like old times, eh Teach?” Claude commented with a mischievous grin, once they were just out of earshot of the others. It seemed he had already abandoned any pretense of cleaning, “Sneaking about the monastery, digging up its secrets . . . I could almost believe these last five years were just a bad dream, and we’d been here together all along.”

“Claude . . .” She’d stopped walking as he’d spoken the words, but he didn’t miss a beat. He’d moved right into more expository about the things she’d missed during the time he’d playfully dubbed her Big Sleep, leaving her no opening to unpack the sadness behind his words.

But he did stop when he reached the top of the third floor stairwell, his body language conveying great surprise even from where she’d fallen a few steps behind. She increased her pace to quickly join him at the top of the stairs, and the source of his bewilderment was immediately apparent.

If he’d been able to believe the past five years had never come to pass before, the state of the monastery’s third floor did much to add to the illusion. The structural damage was already minimal in this wing of the building, and unlike the ground floor which had been pillaged beyond all recognition, it did not seem like the bandits who had taken up residence in Garreg Mach had ever made it this far. The third floor had remained untouched, looking not unlike a window into the past.

But the more she looked, the more she realized her initial observation was not correct. To say that the space had been left untouched ignored just how unnatural it was for a place that had been left to time for five years to be this clean. Nothing was in disarray or blown about despite having sat through several drafty winters. There were no droppings or other signs of the small wildlife that certainly would have taken residence in such a place without fear of human presence. There wasn’t even any dust.

This place was not untouched at all. Someone had been here. Recently.

Claude seemed to have come to the same conclusion, his body tensing, expression calculating but undeniably still perplexed. “What the hell? Who breaks into a place like this just to clean?”

Byleth shook her head and shrugged lightly, similarly unable to imagine such a person. “You’ve got me.”

Claude opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it without saying anything. There were sounds coming from a nearby storage room. They were not alone.

Without hesitation Byleth had drawn the Sword of the Creator, ready for battle. Claude was just as quick beside her, nocking an arrow and raising Failnaught. Because he was closer to the door he moved forward first, pushing the door open softly with his foot and cautiously stepping in, bow at the ready.

His caution did not last long. No sooner than the door had fully opened he started with surprise once again. He didn’t drop his weapon just yet, but the shock was palpable in his voice. “_Cyril_?”

The boy had grown into a young man over the years, but it only took one look for Byleth to recognize that it really was their Almyran companion. She returned the Sword of the Creator to her hip.

Cyril looked equally bewildered by their presence, dropping the axe he was clutching out of fighting stance, “Claude? Professor!”

“Cyril, what are you doing here?” Byleth asked warmly. Claude finally dropped Failnaught and returned his arrow to its quiver.

The puzzled look did not leave Cyril’s features. He wrinkled his nose like he didn’t understand the question.

“Whadayya mean? The same sort of stuff I’ve always been doin’, mostly.”

Claude balked, “Wait a minute, you don’t seriously mean to tell us you’ve been here all this time, do you?”

Again, Cyril seemed surprised at the question. He blinked, answering in a matter-of-fact tone, “Of course I have. Where else would I go?”

From Cyril, the question was not an accusation or a plea for pity; it was a statement of fact. Garreg Mach Monastery might as well have been the whole world as far as he was concerned, and Rhea the sun it revolved around. Of course it would never have occurred to him to go elsewhere, to do something other than keep trying to fulfill his duty to Rhea and take care of the monastery. It was so obvious that in retrospect Byleth felt foolish for not realizing it the moment she saw how clean the place was.

Claude’s eyes had grown stormy, his expression unreadable. But Byleth could see the thoughts racing through his head, could almost feel the force of his condemnation of Rhea rolling off of him. She reached out to take his hand and give it the smallest of squeezes, just enough to get his attention. When he looked at her she met his gaze with an expression that she hoped said, _It’s okay, we’re all here now_.

“Tell us more,” Byleth continued, smiling warmly at Cyril again, “I want to hear how you’ve been doing.”

“Alright well, if you’re really so interested . . .”

Cyril explained how he’d been living in the monastery, surviving by hunting in the Sealed Forest, and trying to repair and maintain the facilities as best he could. He wasn’t able to do much about the structural damage on his own, to his dismay. He’d chased off the bandits when he could, but often on numbers alone he couldn’t run the risk of confronting them, so he just waited to clean up their messes after they left, and tried to hide away as much as he could that he thought they might want to take. He’d come to focus primarily on the third floor area, because it was so undamaged, and because he wanted to make sure Rhea’s quarters were ready for her when she returned.

Claude and Byleth had exchanged a nervous glance at his very confident use of the word 'when'.

“And I’m real glad you’re back now, Professor. I really missed ya. Plus, all this time no one knew where you were, and a bunch of folks thought you were dead, but now here ya are. If you can come back after all this time, then Lady Rhea definitely will too.”

There was a long, pregnant pause, and Claude was the one to break it. “Geez, and what am I, chopped liver?” He asked, laughing awkwardly. It was a rather blatant attempt to diffuse the tension, and Byleth was glad for it. It wasn’t that she doubted that Rhea was alive; of that much she, too, felt quite confident. But they had no idea where Rhea was, or what state she was in, or really even what her intentions were. Depending on how they found her, and when, Cyril could end up truly devastated.

A light flush had crept across Cyril’s cheeks, “I’m real sorry Claude, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m glad to see you again, too, honest.”

Claude just shrugged it off with an easygoing grin, “Nah, it’s fine, I’m well aware that I’m not nearly as exciting company as Teach here. No offense taken.” He paused a beat before adding, “And hey, we’re not the only ones who are back. Everyone else is downstairs.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, all of our former Golden Deer classmates, and a bunch of the Knights of Seiros, too.” Claude paused again, this time cocking his head as if he were weighing the information in his mind, “I bet they’d all be happy to see you again, too. You should go down and say ‘hi’,”

Cyril just crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He might not be able to see the truth behind Claude’s words as readily as Byleth could, but Cyril had seen through that one easily enough. It was rare that Claude ever got caught snooping in his academy days, but the few times he’d been caught had almost all been by Cyril. The boy had been nearly omnipresent about the monastery, since he did so many odd jobs everyday and was so unobtrusive as he did so. He tended to escape most people’s notice, and tended to know a lot more of what was going on than most as well, although he’d tended to pay it all very little mind. He was also definitely aware of Claude’s desire to dig up rhea’s secrets, and definitely did not care to allow him to do so.

So this scenario was not new to Cyril. Claude wanted to snoop through Rhea’s room, and Cyril didn’t want to let him.

“Sorry again, Claude, but I can’t let ya hang around up here by yourself. This area’s off limits, you know.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure those old rules don’t apply anymore.”

But Cyril firmly shook his head, “No way. I’ve gotta keep things the way they’re supposed to be, so Lady Rhea has nothin’ to worry about when she comes back.”

Claude simply shook his head, realizing he had no choice but to admit defeat this time. Byleth grinned devilishly at him, and he pouted comically in return before turning his attention back to Cyril.

“Alright, alright, I yield. Let’s go say ‘hi’ together, then.”

* * *

Byleth paused her stroll through the courtyard, keeping enough distance that she could observe her former students without disturbing them.

She smiled as she watched Cyril and Lysithea chattering away, poring over a book together. It was a rare sight; Lysithea was not public with her emotions and friendships readily, and Cyril still wasn’t one to stop working long enough to socialize often. They were vastly different, all things considered, but somehow it made sense that they had latched on to one another.

“They’re pretty adorable, aren’t they?” Byleth turned her gaze away from the two to look at Claude, who had come to stand beside her, also watching the scene before them with a rare genuine smile.

“Careful, if they hear you say that you’ll ruin it.” Byleth teased.

Claude laughed, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. It was as good as an admission that she was correct; he knew that if Lysithea and Cyril realized they were being watched the moment would be over.

“Really though, I’m glad they click.” Claude continued, uncharacteristically earnest, “It’s good he has someone. I tried to help him out back in the day, but I think I came on a little strong. Just ended up making him mad.”

“I think I remember that, now that you mention it,” Byleth replied, bringing one hand to her chin contemplatively, “Cyril came up to me after class one day. He was upset about someone pitying him.”

“Pity, huh? I guess I can see why he would think that, but that’s really not what it was about at all.”

“What was it about, then?”

Claude shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, as if it were something he hadn’t given much thought. But Byleth knew better--Claude didn’t do anything without first giving it the full extent of his thoughts, even helping young orphan boys being no exception. “It just felt like something I should do. He and I have a lot in common, after all.”

Like both being Almyran, Byleth thought idly. Claude had not admitted to any such thing, of course. Byleth had known it for quite some time regardless. At first she had been surprised that more people didn’t figure it out, or at least no one seemed to. Eventually she had come to the conclusion that their bias about what the heritage of the heir to house Reigan could be prevented them from seeing the truth. Even the students who held no ill-will towards Fodlan’s eastern neighbors simply couldn’t imagine that_ Claude von Riegan_ was counted amongst their numbers.

Byleth had simply looked at the evidence in front of her—his looks, his familiarity with the wyverns, his unusual archery form, the way he’d “mysteriously” fallen ill they day they were supposed to leave to help Hilda fight off the Almyrans at Fódlan’s locket—and seen the truth within it.

But Claude wore his secrets like a suit of armor. Byleth stood to gain little from making him vulnerable by calling him out. So for now, as she had been, she would let him keep his secrets along with his dignity. He would tell her when he was ready.

So instead she replied, “Because you’re both outsiders?”

A grin spread across his face, “Got it in one, Teach.”

“Professor? Claude? Are you _spying_ on us?”

It was Lysithea. So they had finally been spotted.

“Spying?” Claude repeated in a falsely affronted tone, “We would never. We were just keeping an eye on things, making sure you two kids were playing nice.”

“Honestly Claude, you are _unbelievable_,” Lysithea spat, Claude having hit exactly the button he’d been aiming for, as he always did, “I’m sorry, Cyril, but I’m heading back to my room. I can’t stand being in the presence of such immature behavior.”

Lysithea promptly stormed off. Cyril watched her go, then turned to Claude, completely straight-faced, and said, “She doesn’t like it when you treat her like a little kid, ya know.”

Claude tried to stop himself from laughing and only succeeded in snorting.

Byleth gave him a pointed look, “Oh, he knows.”

* * *

Cyril had his revelation about Claude after the destruction of Fort Merceus, when he was introduced to Nader. Claude had explained that Nardel was really Nader, and that they knew each other because he’d been Claude’s childhood combat instructor.

Judging by the look on his face, it was like a final, missing puzzle piece had clicked into place for Cyril. His eyes widened, and he sputtered out something in Almyran. Nader laughed heartily beside him, eyes wrinkling and shoulders shaking. His response was also in Almyran, so Byleth couldn’t understand it either, but his tone was light and teasing. Cyril still looked utterly bewildered.

Claude did a good job of keeping his facial expression neutral as he watched the exchange, thought Byleth noticed the slightest twinkle in his eyes he couldn’t quite hide. Lorenz narrowed his eyes, casting an accusatory stare in Claude’s direction as he asked, “What are they talking about?”

Claude just shrugged his shoulders and replied, as smooth as butter, “I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

Byleth couldn’t help but notice Claude distinctly did not deny knowing what Cyril and Nader were saying. But it had been good enough for Lorenz, who could only admit that he, too, was not quite sure why he had asked.

“I-it’s nothing” Cyril stammered in a tone that completely belied his words, “I didn’t mean to leave everybody out.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to tell anyone anything you don’t want to.” Lysithea answered, coming right to his defense.

“Besides, is this really the best place to be having this conversation?” Hilda added, “I don’t know about anyone else, but I do not want to be here if another one of those javelin of light things drops.”

Even Lorenz, who looked desperate to ask Claude more probing questions, could only agree to that. So they had made their way back to the monastery before Claude had discussed with them his plans for the future of Fódlan, after they took Enbarr.

Cyril looked immensely uncomfortable throughout the whole conversation. He’d never particularly cared to be lumped in with other almyrans, even in a case such as this where Claude was objectively coming to their defense. Mostly he just seemed overwhelmed, which was understandable. Byleth imagined everyone was feeling that to some degree after Claude had opened up to them about his dreams; the scope of his intentions was beyond grand.

But where everyone else had come together in feast to celebrate their recent victory at Fort Merceus, regardless of the black cloud the javelins of light had cast upon the event, Byleth couldn’t help but notice that Cyril had scurried away the moment he’d had the chance.

It wasn’t hard to imagine where he had gone. And so Byleth found her feet carrying her to the third floor once again.

Cyril was in Rhea’s quarters this time, and if Byleth had thought the rest of the floor was clean, this space was truly immaculate. Everything was just so in its proper place; it looked like Cyril had even been keeping the linens on the bed fresh, even though it had been going unused.

“I figure if we’re going to Enbarr next that means Lady Rhea will be back soon. I want to make sure everything is ready for her.” Cyril spoke once he noticed her presence. He was dusting off a bookshelf, though Byleth honestly couldn’t see any dust on it.

The confidence with which he spoke of Rhea returning, and of her being in good space when she did so, still made Byleth uneasy. But they all had their things that they were fighting for, and that were keeping them going; far be it from Byleth to deny Cyril his, “It looks great, Cyril. I’m sure it will make Rhea happy.”

“I sure hope so. As long as Lady Rhea’s happy, then I’ll be happy too.”

Normally that would be the end of the conversation. Cyril would probably ask her to go away so he could focus on the task at hand. But tonight as he carefully adjusted the position of a vase upon the shelf the silence hung heavy in the air between them, and Byleth could sense there was more that he wanted to say.

Byleth waited patiently, and before long Cyril spoke again, “hey Professor, do you think Claude will really be able to do all that stuff he says? Breaking down borders, making Fódlan and Almyra get along?”

Byleth considered the question briefly before turning it back on him, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know . . . I don’t see why everyone can’t just get along, but it seems to me like that’s just the way it is, whether there’s a good reason for it or not. I don’t think it’s gunna change real easy.”

“It’s definitely a tall order,” Byleth agreed, “but I do believe if there’s anyone who can make it happen, it’s Claude.”

“He is pretty good at making people see things his way,” Cyril replied pensively. He took another moment’s pause before he continued, “ya know professor, Claude is. . . Well, I think I might of said some things to him I probably shouldn’ta said.”

The lightest of flushes was visible on his cheeks. That was curious information, and something Byleth would have to unpack properly later. For now, though, her focus was on cheering up Cyril, who seemed uncharacteristically nervous about it for someone who didn’t normally spend much time worrying about what other people think.

“Come on, this is Claude we’re talking about. The guy who says things to upset Lysithea just because he can. I’m sure he can brush off a few off color comments without too much trouble.”

Cyril nodded in response to her words, already looking more composed. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Thanks, Professor.”

“Anyway, is there anything I can help you with in here?” Byleth offered, not that she fathom what else could possibly need to be done--she’d never seen a cleaner room. But Cyril was sure to have more on his to-do list.

“No thanks. This is something I need to do for Lady Rhea myself.”

That was the answer she’d been expecting, of course. But at least he knew she was there if he needed her. And now she could leave him to it knowing he would be alright.

* * *

Leaving the Goddess Tower, her hand in Claude’s, was bittersweet. She understood why he needed to leave, respected his decision to do so. And of course she trusted his promise to return just as she trusted him in all things. Yet she couldn’t help but wish as they step out onto the Cathedral’s terrace that the staircase had been just a few steps longer.

As they stepped out into the open air Byleth paused. Faintly, through the nighttime quiet of the monastery, she could hear a sound. Someone sniffling.

Claude’s attention had been focused on his wyvern, waiting there patiently to take him away, and he wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, “Please By, if you go getting all teary-eyed on me, it’s going to be even harder to tear myself away than it already is.”

“It’s not me,” She replied, gazing around curiously for the source of the noise.

Their search brought them inside the Cathedral where, sitting on one of the otherwise empty pews, they found Cyril. He had his knees tucked up to his chest, his arms wrapped lightly around them. And as they expected he was crying.

“Lady Rhea’s leaving,” he said softly. He was looking straight ahead, and he did not yet turn to face them as he spoke, “I told her I wanted to go with her, but she won’t let me.”

Claude looked her way, the storm brewing in his eyes again. There was no love lost between Rhea and Claude, especially now that the truth was out. And this was exactly the sort of scenario that had made them uneasy about Cyril’s reverent hope for Rhea’s return. He might have helped Rhea out with every sort of job imaginable, but the truth was that Cyril was completely dependent on her.

Whatever Claude might have had to say on the subject, Cyril spoke up again before he had the chance, “She told me I should live for myself now, but I don’t know what that means. And it seems like whenever folks are looking for answers to real tough questions they come here, so that’s what I did.”

“I’d say you’re better off finding the answer to that one yourself, than waiting around for the goddess to tell it to you.” Coming from anyone else it might have sounded dismissive, but Claude was giving genuine advice. His tone was warm, and his delivery serious.

Cyril finally turned to face them. He’d stopped crying, but when he blinked at Claude a few of the tears that were still pooling in his eyes escaped his eyelashes, rolling down his face, “Whaddaya mean?”

“What do you _want_ to do, Cyril?” this time Byleth was the one to ask, “What would make you happy?”

Cyril took a long moment to consider the question. Even as he finally spoke again, it did not seem like he had truly found his answer yet, “I don’t know . . . helping Lady Rhea’s always been what made me happy. But I guess if I can’t do that anymore helping other people would make me happy too.”

Byleth stepped forward until she was standing in front of him and held out her hand.

At first he just stared up at her, unmoving. “Huh?”

Byleth smiled, “We can help each other. I’ll have someone to rely on, and you’ll have someone to help. Until you decide what else you want.”

Cyril’s eyes were shining again, but the sadness had left them, “Yeah, okay. That sounds nice. I think I’d be real happy if I could help you from now on, Professor. Oh, well, I guess it’s going to be Your Majesty now, isn’t it?”

“You can just call me Byleth.”

The blush reached the tips of Cyril’s ears, “Oh, n-no. I could never do that. It would be too . . .”

Whatever it would be, Cyril either didn’t have the words for it, or he didn’t want to say them aloud. Byleth’s smile turned fonder, “Whatever you’re comfortable with, then.”

Cyril took the hand Byleth was offering, and she helped pull him to his feet. There was a brief silence, then Cyril seemed to have a sudden realization, “Wait, if you’re gunna be Queen now, won’t it make folks kinda uncomfortable to have ya working close with an Almyran like me all the time?”

Claude, who had been observing their exchange silently and thoughtfully for a time, couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “That’s all the more reason to do it, if you ask me.”

Claude’s eyes met hers again. He was grinning, but his eyes were sad. Without saying anything, he gestured his head toward the door. That’s right. He was leaving.

Byleth was still holding Cyril’s hand in hers. With her free hand, she reached out and took Claude’s once again. Together, they walked back out to the terrace.

Cyril seemed to understand the significance of Claude and Byleth’s intertwined fingers. The ring she now wore was probably revealing as well, although the one she’d given Claude in exchange hadn’t fit upon his fingers as it was. His gaze passed between the two of them, eyes thoughtful and a small smile on his lips, but he didn’t say anything.

Claude gave her hand a final squeeze before slowly releasing it to approach his wyvern. He stroked her gently as he adjusted his saddle bags. This, too, Cyril seemed to appreciate the significance of, although this time he could not keep his thoughts to himself.

“Claude, you’re not leaving already, are ya?” He asked anxiously, “What about breaking down Fodlan’s borders and stuff?”

“At this stage, I can do more good from where I’m going. And I have a suspicion you already understand why.” Claude answered, as cryptic as ever. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Cyril nodded quickly and didn’t say anything else on the subject.

Satisfied with his preparations, Claude turned back to Byleth, closing the distance between them and pressing his forehead against hers. After he pulled away, he simply said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.”

He’d place a foot in the stirrup of his saddle and prepared to pull himself up onto his wyvern before he stopped, this time turning back towards Cyril.

“Hey, Kiddo,” He approached Cyril and clapped a hand on his shoulder. When he continued he spoke in Almyran, so Byleth could not understand, but Cyril’s eyes widened and he nodded solemnly.

Byleth and Cyril watched in silence as Claude flew away, until his wyvern disappeared into the darkness of the night sky.

Byleth knew she was prying, but as they turned together to make their way across the monastery back to their sleeping quarters, she couldn’t help but ask, “What did Claude say to you before he left?”

Cyril was blushing again, and he couldn’t quite look her in the eye as he explained, “He said, ‘take care of my queen for me while I’m gone’.”

Byleth felt herself blush slightly at the words too. But she also smiled. She was in good hands, she knew. And she would do all she could to make sure Cyril knew it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> -grabs my megaphone and shouts from the rooftops- STOP HATING CYRIL AND START HATING THE SYSTEMS AND ADULTS THAT MADE HIM THE WAY HE IS
> 
> p.s. I couldn’t quite parse out the structural/grammatical difference for when Cyril says “ya” versus when he says “you” while speaking, so I just went with “whatever made the dialogue sound more right in my head” :’)


End file.
